Lane Kim strode confidently into the hotel lobby and walked directly over to the elevator, not even glancing at the reception or the bellboy. It was how her escort agency boss – Madam might be a more accurate description – had told her to act when visiting a client; you had to look like you belonged there, not that you were a high class prostitute going to see a John. Or a Jill in this case. Rory stuck her hands in the pocket of her long coat and waited for the elevator to descend. Her fingers touched a piece of paper, on which she had scribbled the room number and the name of the hotel – a middle range chain in the outer suburbs of Hartford. She didn’t need to pull it out, she had memorised the room as she had the instructions of what her client wanted.
The bell to the elevator dinged as the doors opened. Lane stepped in and pressed the floor number. A man in a suit followed her in and he gave a polite nod. She gave a non-committal one back just enough to acknowledge they were two strangers trapped together in an enclosed space. He didn’t give her another glance, instead looking at his watch. With her glasses, smart bag over her shoulder and long, buttoned dark coat he probably thought she was an young looking professional. It would have shocked him that underneath she was wearing a sexy schoolgirl uniform, the skirt well up her thigh and the blouse tied across her midriff leaving her stomach bare. No panties either. The client wasn’t looking for an accurate representation of the schoolgirl look, more a sexual fantasy.
The bell on the lift dung again and the doors began to open. “My floor,” said Lane and stepped out, leaving the businessman glancing at his watch again.
The teen looked at the room signs and turned left, following them down the corridor. She could feel her pussy tingling with excitement - it always did. Some of the women did escort work for the money. Not Lane, sure it was a bonus to find yourself several hundred dollars richer and she loved slipping the money in her tin under the floorboards. But she didn’t need it, she made more from dealing pot and a little coke. No, she had joined the escort business because she was a naughty little nympho and this way she could get plenty of fucks and sucks.
She stopped at the door and undid her coat, so that the client could see what she was wearing. She was sure the woman would like it; it was suitably sluttish. Most of her clients were men, so it was a nice change to have a woman, especially when she was going to be the dominant one – not that she didn’t enjoy being bottomed or banged by guys, they were fun as well. In fact Lane hadn’t yet found any pairing or act she hadn’t liked. She licked her lips to brighten the gloss and pushed her chest out a little so that her pop-up bra and unbuttoned shirt conspired to make her titties seem even bigger and bouncier than they were. Her knuckles rapped at the door.
It swung open so quickly that the client must have been waiting on the other side of it.
“Lane,” the Jill gasped in shock.
“Lorelai,” Lane replied, equally surprised.
*
Lane stood in front of the mirror touching up her make-up; she always did it at Rory’s house – her own Mom thinking that lipstick and eye-shadow was the work of, if not the devil, at least someone who was probably going to end up sharing the afterlife with him. The teen pursed her lips, rubbing them together to clear any excess and make sure the gloss was even. Very cute, she thought to herself, and fuckable, which was the main thing.
She turned from the full-length mirror and towards her friend. Rory was wearing jeans and nothing else, frowning in concentration as she looked at a couple of bras on the bed, one a blue which matched her denims, the other as black as coal. “Which one?” she asked Lane nervously.
The choice was easy. Lane pointed to the nearest, “That one.” Rory put it on, sliding the cups over her titties, pushing them up and together. Lane smiled, “It’ll soon be off anyway; I don’t think the guys are looking for a fashion show.”
“It’s still important to look good,” said Rory and gestured for a white pullover, which was crumpled over the chair next to Lane. Her friend passed it her and she pulled it over her head; it was tight and thinner that it looked, the outline of the bra visible. The teen moved her head, pulling any hair strands that had been stuck in the sweater out and letting them hang loose. “You could come as well,” she smiled cheerfully, but Lane had been her friend long enough to know that Rory was nervous.
“Pass me your old blazer,” Lane said. Rory passed it to her, the smile still on her face. Lane took it and looked it over; Rory had removed the badge on the pocket, leaving it a darker colour than the surrounds, but apart from that it looked fine – the perfect complement to the rest of her slutty schoolgirl outfit. She shrugged it on and turned to the mirror, yes, that worked. She turned back to Rory, “You’ll be good.”
“But two guys… at once,” Rory smile’s faltered and her anxious face came to the fore. Then her smile beamed up again as if an idea had just popped into her head, though Lane suspected that it had been their for a while, “We could put them off until tomorrow and then take one each.”
Lane was almost tempted, she seldom said ‘no’ to dick. But Mrs Kim was aware that Lorelai was away at a hospitality event overnight and that Rory was alone, her Mama wasn’t naïve and knew that meant loud music and, despite her strict admonitions, a glass of wine. It had been with some reluctance the older Kim had agreed her teenage daughter could spend the night at Rory’s, thinking it would prevent Rory being tempted to invite a boy round. But in return Lane would need to spend extra time cleansing her soul and a Sunday afternoon’s bible reading beckoned. Lane picked up a joint, pushed the bedroom window open a little more and lit the weed. She sucked it and turned to Rory, offering her friend some. She waited until Rory had taken it and sucked in a lung full before replying, “No, you take them.”
“You sure? Their big dicks, your tight ass? It’s your thing. And you’re better at negotiating than me, I always get tongue tied.”
“I’m going to get my full of pussy tonight, with a Milf with a schoolgirl fetish so it’s not like I’m going without,” Lane took the pot back and took another puff. It was good stuff, “You’ll be fine, I’ve already done the talking; two grand of pot and one grand of coke for two and a half and your ass and pussy. The guys know you’ve not done DP before, but Aaron says neither has Walt, so they’re not expecting porn star style. Anyway once they’re in you, all you have to do is squeak and squeal, they’ll do all the work.”
“Okay,” said Rory. She didn’t sound totally convinced.
Lane grinned, “Honestly, Rory, it’s as easy as falling of a log. And take it from me, you know how much you love one cock, two’s not just twice as good it’s orgasm squared.”
